


Revenge Is Best Served Hot

by aestivali



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Pyromania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestivali/pseuds/aestivali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a good night, and Willow has something special in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge Is Best Served Hot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/gifts).



"Stay here, Chester," said Willow, dropping his eyebone. "I've got stuff to burn, and you're not on the list tonight."

Chester merely sat there, panting, that weird tongue of his lolling out. She wondered if he could hear her. Or _see_ her - how did that eye even work? Could he even tell it was getting dark? Maybe he just didn't care.

"Whatever, fuzzybutt," she said, flicking open her lighter. She licked her lips as she watched the last sliver of sun sink below the horizon. There. No moon, no stars, just perfect darkness - all the better to see her fires. She grinned, and set off into the night.

There wasn't far to go, but her lighter's flame only had a small radius. She felt an itch at the back of her skull - the urge to light a fire here, now, by her camp. But that would be a waste. She'd carefully collected all that tinder, and she wanted to be here to see it burn. Later, later. She held the lighter close, and scuttled on.

The crunch of pine needles below her feet alerted her that she was getting near. That smell too, fresh and sweet - and boring. But it would be better soon. Yes, soon.

She lifted her lighter up higher, and squinted at the trees. This was the way. She remembered planting them, carefully laying out the saplings, a pattern that drew in on itself. A pattern that drew her towards the centre, towards the biggest tree of all.

"Hope you like fire, jerk," she muttered under her breath, and scurried a little faster.

The trees got closer and closer together, forming a row on either side of her, and she knew she was nearing her destination. Just a few more - yes. Here.

She emerged into a small clearing. Or perhaps clearing was too grand a word. It was just a small gap between two rings of trees: not enough to stop a fire spreading, but enough to give her a good view of her target. She raised the lighter above her head, letting its pool of light spread as far as possible. In the middle of the innermost circle of trees, she could almost see what she was after. She strained her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of it. But it was only her ears that caught even a hint. A soft swishing sound. Like a breeze rustling the branches - or the motion of breath.

Willow frowned, then turned back to the closest tree. She wrapped her hand around a small branch and snapped off the end. A groan echoed through the forest.

"Yeah, you don't like that, do you?" she called, spinning around. "Got pretty mad at me when I chopped one of your friends down for firewood."

She held the branch up, inspecting it, running her fingers over the bark. Oh yes, this was going to be beautiful. "But it's alright," she continued nonchalantly, as she dipped the end of the branch into her lighter's flame. "I've given you lots of new friends."

"And now," Willow said, striding forward, "you're all going to be firewood." And she threw the makeshift torch into the inner circle of trees.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. The torch lay on the ground, burning merrily, but the flickering flame only danced on that spot. Willow leaned forward, eager for the first sign of something happening - and she was soon rewarded. The grass nearby began to curl up, and in the darkness she could just see the curls of smoke rising toward the sky. Embers began to spill out from the fire, a few at first, but then more and more.

Willow shivered. Soon, soon, it would catch - it just needed to get a foothold in the trees, and then nothing would stop it, nothing, not even their great protector, not until it had consumed everything. She held her breath as she watched, as sparks began to drift higher and higher, some burning out on the wind, but all it needed was one - and there it was.

One spark turned to a lick of flame, that flame to several sparks - and then there sparks leaping from twig to twig, branch to branch, tree to tree. It was all going up, it was all burning, it would all be destroyed, and it was beautiful.

A great roar echoed from within the circle. Willow smiled. Now, the chase would begin.

She scampered back a few paces, holding her lighter up, and yelled, "Hey, jerk! I'm over here!" But it was already coming for her; it needed no directions, no encouragement - it would follow her now until its mission was done.

But taunting it sure was fun.

The ground shook as it moved, each step a giant crash, accompanied by those deep low sounds of anger. In the dark, she couldn't see all of it - she just had the impression of a huge, powerful figure. A huge, powerful, _slow_ figure.

"Come on, come get me!" she called, and it lurched toward her, ignoring every obstacle in its path. Every obstacle, including the line of trees that now formed a wall of fire - a wall of fire that latched on the creature's own woody limbs.

Something like a scream erupted, deep and terrible, full of anger and hatred and fear. But the creature did not stop its march. It was still coming for her, still advancing - still burning. And carrying the fire to new targets as it passed.

Willow laughed, unrestrained and hysterical. "Stupid treeguard! Look what you've done!" She darted back as it came close, still cackling. "How's your mission working out for you now?"

The treeguard carried on, heeding neither her words nor the damage it was doing, simply heading straight for her.

"Stupid, stupid treeguard!" laughed Willow, dancing on the spot. There was so much fire, so big and bright, so destructive she could hardly contain herself. Heat was poring off it too, but that didn't bother her the slightest bit - it was just another wonderful, beautiful thing about fire.

As she danced and laughed, the treeguard drew closer, and this time she didn't run. It pulled back one great, strong, flaming arm, and swung it towards her with all its might.

At the last second, Willow darted away. The treeguard's appendage collided at full force with the tree she'd stood beside, cracking its trunk and filling its unsuspecting branches with a thousand tiny flames. In return, the treeguard's own branches gained new flames of their own, all its revenge turned to mockery.

Before it could move to strike her again - because her true love was the fire, not the dance with death - Willow skipped away again. This time she moved off to the side, leading the burning treeguard behind her, round the circle of trees to the other side. It followed eagerly, heedlessly, spreading destruction everywhere it went. The flames were burning higher now, brighter and brighter, as the initial fire reached fever pitch and began to spread itself yet faster.

All the way, Willow laughed as she ran. This - this was so much better than she'd hoped. The whole forest was going up, her forest, the one she'd planted just for this purpose. And its stupid protector had fallen right into her trap.

She was far faster than it was, lumbering behind her, and she completed an entire circuit of the forest before it had even made it halfway. But still it came for her, now stomping right through the middle, right through the oldest and hottest part of the fire, just to get to her. She paused when she reached her original path, the one that led back to her base, and stopped to watch. It was flailing through the heart of the fire, struggling with each step, its once strong limbs leeched of strength with every mote that burned.

And at last, at last, she saw it topple - saw it fall to the ground, where it would be consumed by the pyre she had built for it. Willow let out a triumphant cry, and punched the air. Victory! And now she could retreat to her base, to rest, to eat, and to watch the glorious flaming vista of her success.

Chester was still in the same spot when she got back. As she approached he sat up and began to pant again, like the weird dog-chest thing he was.

"Hey, you," she said, almost affectionately. "Been enjoying the show?"

Chester remained silent.

"Yeah, Chester. Me too," Willow said, and sat down to watch until the fire burned out.


End file.
